Beautifully undone
by Your-hollywood-tragedyx3
Summary: I'd rather just fall right off of your floor and come beautifully undone.' Sequel to 'Waste away.' Now it's recovery time, but can Alex make it through, or will she fall right back through the cracks again? R&R please. May be a pairing later on...
1. This is only for now

**Author's note: So I told you all that I would have a sequel, as shitty as this start may be, I have it up regardless. Shout outs will start with the next chapter, and I think it's important that I note this is still in Alex's point of view, beginning from when she collapsed at her home, to now, when she's found and so on. Actually, it's more of a recap then anything(which is what's in italics), and **_**really**_** begins with her waking up. So please continue to review, let me know what you think, and if you have any ideas and i'll try and incorporate them into here as best I can. **

**One.**

**

* * *

  
**

_I can feel everything and nothing all at the same time. My heart's beating wildly in my chest and as I try to make my way back to my bed, I feel my heart start pounding wildly again. I hear someone, two people rather, shouting my name from a distance, begging me, pleading for something, but I can't quite understand what. Their voices, features are all foggy, and just when I think I'll be able to get a better view, a better understanding, everything goes dark and stops. I feel no pain anymore, my heart is no longer pounding wildly and the thoughts in my head have now disappeared. Nothing. I hear nothing, see nothing, __am__ nothing. Is that a problem?_

--

From the moment my eyes flutter open and I groan miserably, I want to shut them again. The pounding in my head's grown back, worse then before, and my entire body is sleek with sweat. My breathing has grown shallower, more calmer then what it was before, which is good, but I can't for the life of me tell where I am or why the hell I'm laying in a bed that isn't mine, in a room that isn't mine. I look around, trying to put things together, figure out just _what_'s going on.

When I notice the machines, it clicks. The beeping from one of them, showing my heart rate on the screen, is rather annoying and I can feel the anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach. How in the _hell_ did I get here? In a hospital of all places! I hear a knock at the edge of a door frame and look up, finding a worried and relieved, Olivia at the door. Her eyes are wet and red, face flushed and stained with dry tears. She enters silently, not waiting for a response from me because she knows I won't be able to give one from the state of shock I'm in, and pulls up a chair beside the bed I'm still stuck in.

I hold my breath as she speaks, unsure of what to do or say. Her voice cracks, but it's audible.

"You really scared us you know, me in particular." I swallow back the lump in my throat and advert my eyes to the blanket that's covering my frail body. I pick at it, unable to look at her. My eyes burn with tears that won't fall and I'm itching to get out of here. She continues a moment later. "Alex...talk to me. Please? Just tell me what's going on!" I bite down hard on my lip without knowing and she adds on again. "All I know is what the doctor told me, god Alex-we almost lost you again! Why are you doing this?" She choked out, brushing away a few stray tears. I sniffle, unaware that I _myself_ am crying too and shrug.

I still refuse to look at her because I know I'll lose it if I do.

"You're in bad shape." She adds. Her body's shaking furiously and she's damn near sobs, but she keeps talking none the less, and I let her because what else can I honestly do? I lost all my control the moment I hit rock bottom, the moment I ended up in this hospital, tied down to a bed I don't want, in a life and a body I don't want. Can't they see that I _wanted_ to die? "The doctor said the lining of your stomach is almost completely ruined due to self-induced vomiting, and that your weight is dangerously low. And to top it all off, your entire body is filled with cuts and old scars, some new that haven't healed over. She even had to stitch up one on your wrist because it was so bad! How you managed to live through the amount of blood you've lost is beyond me, but you _need_ help. Whether you _want_ it or not, you _need_ it because I'll be _damned_ if I lose you again!"

----

It's been a week, a long week full of conversations I don't want to have and food they try to get me to eat without vomiting up. When I go to therapy, I'm forced to listen to others bitch and moan about how they hate themselves. I scoff, and pretend to listen when really my mind is elsewhere. The walls are painted a piss yellow, and the room smells like death. Then again, when you have 20 or so odd girls who've starved themselves or vomited every little thing they ate up, for numerous years of their lives, you tend to take the smell of 'death' perceived as normal. The man assigned to our group, our therapist-I mean, calls himself Chaz. He's old, in his late 50's, fat, and bald.

His face holds only one position, that smug, shit eating grin on his face that tells us he's either on happy pills or a child molester. Funny thing about it is, I should be able to tell if he diddled little kids, seeing as I'm an ADA yet when it comes to this bastard, I have no idea.

I guess because of the fact I don't care. I don't care about anything but getting out of here and away from this shit hole known as New York. But then again, that too, is the problem. Where could I run too without being found? The only solitude I could ever had is within myself and now it's gone, so in all honesty, I'm beyond fucked. Well, I guess now that I'm stuck here, I have some time to figure it out.


	2. How I could just kill a man

**Author's Note: So in the time span I've put this up, I've already gotten 3 reviews-which is incredible. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so glad all my old readers(and hopefully some new) are still reading and enjoying. I hope this continues to live up to your expectations. **

_**ShaNini86-I apologize If I just butchered your user name! Aha. Out of all of my readers, you have managed to review me effortlessly, your kind words keep me going(not saying that everyone else's don't) but holy hell. I could write an entire autobiography on how my self esteem has sky rocketed within the time span of your first review to now. Thank you **__**so**__** much. I can't even begin to tell you how appreciative I am. Ps. Yes, you are right. Something just MAY go on between the two...**_

_**Sydira: Your english is just fine dear! Thank you for your kind words, they mean everything to me.**_

_**Vanamo: Oh my! Just like ShaNini86, you have been here for me every step of the way. Both with Waste away, and now this. I thank you from the very bottom of my heart. Now I may not be an avid 'House' watcher, but I do get your analogy! Ha. And I'm glad to know I leave everyone thinking with my chapters, that-and I sincerely hope this lives up to your expectations. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you!**_

**Two.**

**

* * *

  
**

The following week, Chaz gave us journals as another means of communication. For me, my _only_ communication. We were to write about our feelings, our emotions, what we wanted out of life, or what we didn't. I still refused to talk aloud in 'group' so I guess this was his silent protest, telling me that if I won't speak out loud then I'll speak in silence, in words. I didn't want too, I told him angrily, arms crossed over my chest, I just _wanted_ to be left alone.

Write about that, he says as he stuffs the flimsy material into my hands. Letting out an angry huff, I stomp from the room and back to where I was staying. It was quaint, very quiet, and lucky for me I had a private, single room-courtesy of Donnelley. She said I had two options. Take the room, and take the treatment, or go back home to my dingy apartment and look for a new job.

I didn't think she was serious at first, but when I saw the anger and determination in her _own_ eyes, as well as the fear, I knew she was. Donnelley was _never_ one for letting her guard down, let alone ever giving people anything, unless she _really_ cared for them, and I'm guessing I was one of those people.

Damn.

----

My room in this rat infested shit hole is tiny and blank for the most part, aside from your standard bed, dresser, and closet. My bed looked like one you might find in a hospital, only it was slightly bigger and without the railings. The walls were a pale blue, a color I've _always_ hated. Call me crazy, but blue reminded me of anger, and I had enough anger in me to last the rest of my life, however long that may be. Then there was the dresser. It was blue too, the same color as the walls so it pretty much just fucking blended in. Everything in my room, actually, was blue. Pale _fucking_ blue.

Christ I hate this.

----

_October 16th, 2009-The first of unfortunately many entries._

"That's the whole trouble. You can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful, because there isn't any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you're not looking, some body'll sneak up and write "Fuck you" right under your nose."-J.D. Salinger.

_I've been in this shit hole for nearly three weeks, It's the beginning of fall, and I'm driving myself mad. I want out. Is that what you want me to say Chaz? Because if you're looking for that 'share your feelings' bull shit it's not going to happen, you can just go suck it._

_-Alex._

_Ps. Call me Alexandra again, and I'll put your fucking balls in a blender._

_----_

It's midnight, and the only sound in this miserable room of mine is the ticking of the clock on the night stand beside my bed. I want to throw it out a window, but chances are if I do, I'd have to buy this fucking place a new one. And I do _not_ intend on doing that.

I hate insomnia. I hate the fact that I want to sleep but can't because of the raging madness going on in my head. Yes, the madness is back, along with my need, my control, my hatred and my disgust. I can honestly say I've never met stupider people then the shit heads here in my entire life. I still throw up, but I do it secretly. And the best part, is the fact they have no idea. It goes right over their heads.

I know I should stop, I knew from the look in Olivia's eyes that day of the hospital how severe this was, but I haven't stopped. I don't know if I can, and in one way, I'm scared. In another, I couldn't give a rat's ass what happens. My stomach is already ruined enough, why not just finish it off? Maybe if I do so, then I can just become an anoretic. Maybe if the lining of my stomach is gone, I won't have to bother. Maybe I'll just drop dead, then I won't have to go back to work and face everyone, _and_ I can get the hell out of here.

Yeah, maybe I'll just let this kill me. That sounds pretty good right about now. Then again, maybe I'm losing my mind.

----

Chaz never told me he's going to read our entries aloud. Bastard. Well, at least I didn't give anything away. When he reads the last part of my entry, the _last_ entry from the _last_ journal he reads, his face turns three shades of green and I'm waiting for him to run off screaming for his mother. Everyone else is sneering, but I can see in their eyes they're cowering.

I love scaring them shitless. It's just so fucking amusing.

----

Olivia stopped in today. She had this wild look in her eyes, one that I couldn't quite figure out, but she was unusually giddy. Said she was glad I was doing better. I scoffed and looked away, telling her how this was more like a prison then a fucking hospital. She snorted and then a nurse came in, telling me I needed to take my flexeril(a muscle relaxer) and asked Olivia to leave. She sighed unhappily, and I watched as the wild look faded into a sad spark. I looked at her, showing some sort of sympathy(if able) and watched as she lingered in the doorway a moment. I took the pill, waited for the nurse to leave(who tapped her watch impatiently) and then muttered for her to fuck off. I watched as Olivia laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

I hate to say it, but she was slowly becoming one person I _didn't_ hate so much anymore. Oh fuck.

----

The next day is long and tedious. Chaz now refers to me as Alex, thanks to that little threat I sent him, and I still sat in the corner, silent and making no effort to talk. He threw bullshit my way about only getting out of this joint _IF_ I talked. I told him it was purely bullshit, called him out on it, and then retreated to stare at the outside world. The one I _couldn't_ be in.

The world of petty bitches.

----

_October 17th, 2009-This place is futile and disgusting. It's like the black plague. Contagious and deadly._

"Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."-J.D. Salinger.

_Fuck. As angry as I am, I never thought I'd start missing people. I figured my anger would rule the other shit out. The other emotions I refuse to acknowledge because anger is a hell of a lot better then sadness. Olivia though, god I could go on about her forever. As hostile as I am at the moment, she is what is slowly bringing me down. _

_I don't know what the hell happened the other day, but something clicked. Something made me want to tell her why, why I do this. Why I'm here. But I can't. The words are stuck in the back of my mouth, refusing to come forward. She looked so happy when she saw me, we talked, well-sort of. She mainly did the talking, but I at least spoke without biting off her head. No, I left that for the nurse who came in and ruined everything. Fucking bitch. If you haven't noticed 'Chaz' I hated talking aloud. I hate the sound of my voice, of my...everything. I hate ME! _

_Are you happy now? I hate myself, my everything, the world that co-exists. I hate it all, and fuck- I even hate you. But I _do not_ hate Olivia. Olivia is, right now, my outside world. She's the only one who I could actually see myself with, yet I'm pretty sure she's straight as a rail. Damn, this place is throwing my gaydar off immaculately. _

_Whatever, I'm out. There's my rant for the day Chaz. And if you read this shit aloud tomorrow, I won't hesitate to cuss you._

_--Alex._


	3. I almost told you that I loved you

**Author's Note: Glad to know everyone's enjoying my sick sense of humor. I get it from 'Hard Candy,' and no-I'm not talking about the ACTUAL candy, I mean the movie. Hard Candy, with Ellen Page-because she's just so brilliant in that movie. Or, in general. But as much as I enjoy the lighter tones to this, I'm sending Alex back to the dark side for a bit-sorry bout' that. :) More Liv/Lex action comin' soon, so keep watching out for it!**

_**ShaNini86-Glad to know I didn't butcher the user name. :) Also glad to know you liked the lighter tone I brought to it. I figured after the hell Alex has gone through in the past few weeks/months, that she'd have a little fun and joke around. However, her hatred toward Chaz IS still hatred, but also a great amount of fear. Because she can't tackle her own demons, she tackles other peoples-forcing them to face them head on. Funny and ironic how like I said, she can't face her own, eh? Oh dear-I just sounded horribly Canadian there(although, I do love me some Canadians...) haha. Keep reading, your views on Liv and Alex may just go somewhere soon...**_

_**SnakeGoddess: Interesting user name, despite my terrifying phobia of snakes. :) Glad to know you enjoy the story, and the quotes. I have to say Salinger is a very good author/quotist...is that even a word? Haha. Well, it is now! :D Keep reading, I love to hear your thoughts.**_

_**Starlight63: Glad to know you like Alex's humor. I do too! Keep reviewing, I really appreciate it. **_

**Three.**

**

* * *

  
**

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my bedroom this morning. I realized how much I miss the outside world, despite being consumed by the world inside me. The one that I had control over. The one without demons and jail cells, the one which allowed me to be free, do things my _own_ way. The one that unfortunately, was selfish and pushed everyone else away. Olivia, included.

I remember when I first told my mother I was gay. She was drunk(I figured it was easier, that and she was drunk 99.9 percent of my life), and she threw a bottle at my head. A Jack Daniel's bottle. I remembered it because when I looked down at the broken shards of glass beside me, I saw a capital 'J' and when I looked back up, my mother smirked, frowned, took another swig from a bottle that pretty much appeared out of nowhere, and huffed. I watched as she stomped, or swayed is more like it, out of the foyer and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and continuing to drink.

And when my father heard, he took me upstairs to show me the harsh reality of it all. He told me that he will not have a gay daughter in his house, under his roof, and that if I utter another word about it-he'd kill me. My father was always an angry man, so was my mother, but that summer, that night I told him, everything got worse. Including my addiction that was slowly spiraling out of control.

He beat me so hard, so bad, I was almost positive he broke a rib or two. When i heard the sickening crack, I leaned over and vomited on his carpet. He was drunk and didn't care about the pain, but he was incredibly pissed that his ugly ass carpet was ruined even more now. He called me a bitch and told me to clean it up. When I didn't move, he slid down his pants and proceeded to rape me over and over until he was unconscious.

And I lay beside him, dirty, disgusting, sick, and in pain-wondering if him fucking me made me lose a few more pounds.

----

I'm brought back into reality by a harsh grip on my arm. Chaz's hand is forcefully wrapped around my wrist, yelling something foreign at me. I squint and read his lips. Evacuation, he says. Evacuation. Evacuation? I mouth, my voice seeming to get lost somewhere in the back of my throat. He nods, and nearly rips my arm out as he pulls me from the building.

It's then that I've noticed a part of it's in flames. Well, at least I don't have to go to therapy today...

----

I was wrong. I figured the fire would take awhile to get put out, that the building would be ruined and I wouldn't have to deal with Chaz's antagonizing questions, but here we are. In the lobby of the building, wearing gas masks and trying with much difficulty not to breathe in the charred bits and pieces of the old therapy room. I learned one of the crazy anoretics forgot to take their medicine, flipped their shit, and torched the place before lighting her own self on fire and laughing as she burned away into nothing.

It's sad, but when I think about it I cringe. It makes me think of the boy who lit himself on fire during a protest in the 70's.

Chaz is speaking to me again, asking me my thoughts on the girl and today's events. I tell him what she did was pure bull shit and I hope that she burns in hell. He looks a bit taken back at first, but then his gaze softens and he sighs sadly. I think he's trying to mentally analyze how to help me.

I scoff at the thought, raising attention and eyebrows from the other crazies and Chaz, around me.

Yeah, because I'm just so fucking _willing_ to get help.

----

I know it's wrong. What I'm doing. I've known since I've started it up again. In the back of my mind, there's a little sliver, a little voice yelling at me and telling me to stop. But the larger part of my brain tells it to shut up, that I'm not good enough, that I won't _ever_ be good enough. I need to lose just five more pounds and I'll be okay.

But will I really?

----

Some woman barged into my room when I had my fingers down my throat. She ripped my head out of that toilet so fast it spun in circles, but by then I was flying high. She was angry, pushing me toward a scale like I'm some sort of rodent they'd test in a lab. I stepped on it willingly, too out of my mind to give a shit. The scale read 85. I laughed wildly and stepped off, and then laughed harder at the expression her face.

Her eyes were wide and full of shock and she looked near tears. Before I knew what had happened, I clocked her. Hard.

----

The fact I'm not in jail right now for assaulting a nurse is incredibly surprising. But seeing as I'm now under lock down in my bedroom, I can see why. There's nothing here. Nothing. A guard sits outside my room every time I eat, and despite my efforts and threats to kick him in the head, he doesn't budge. I curse at him in anger, flinging every possible word I know around.

I stop when I hear voices talking. It sounds like a woman. When the door opens, I intend to make a run for it, but stop when I find Olivia standing in front of me, a mere few feet away with her arms crossed in displeasure. She steps in, slams the door shut behind her, and my god-the heat that's radiating from her body is insane.

She's almost a little intimidating.

"What the _hell_ did you do?" She hissed. "Assaulting a nurse? Alex what the fuck!"

God, she's even hot when she's pissed. I shake my head, trying to rid myself from the scrambling thoughts. No. Stay focused, stay angry. But how the _hell_ can I stay angry at her when I want to fuck her ten ways from Sunday? I can't. I bite down hard on my lip and look away, too ashamed to say anything.

She sighs unhappily and uncrosses my arms from one another and takes my hands in her owns. The mere touch sends shock waves raging through my spine and I'm incredibly glad I'm sitting down or else I'd be a pool of jello at her feet right now.

"Talk to me." She pleads. I unwillingly find my head turning and my eyes locking with her brown pools. I swallow hard and shake my head, a small whimper slipping from behind my tounge. "Please A...I...I need to know. I can't work, I can't live, I can't concentrate on anything but you. I'm constantly worrying, I..." She stops, and this time, she looks away.

I inch closer toward her, noticing she's crying. I bite down harder on my lip and then slide my index finger and thumb under her chin, turning her head gently back to face me. With a head swimming of merciless thoughts, I push them away, silencing them for a moment and do something extremely unexpected. Without warning, and shocking even myself, _especially_ myself, I kiss her.

I lean forward, pressing her lips to mine in what literally has to be the most passionate kiss in my life. I feel her hands snake around my back and I slowly find my will breaking down, giving into her. A small moan escapes from me and I take the chance to rake my hands through her hair. Her brown curls wrap their way around my pale fingers and I can feel, taste every inch of her. God, she's more amazing then I've ever imagined.

And before I know it, it's over and we've pulled back breathless. For the first time in awhile, I smile. She smiles too for a moment, and then frowns. I arch my eyebrow in confusion. When she utters those words, I feel my heart slowly pull back and slide down into my stomach as a wave of hurt washes over me. "Will you tell me what's going on, please?"

"So that's it? You kiss me and then just expect me to spill myself to you? What the _fuck_ Olivia?" I shout, my voice literally radiating off the walls. She too, looks hurt and instantly tries to interject, to make some sort of statement but I refuse to let her.

"Alex-" She begins. "Just let me explain..."

I shake my head, fists clenched tightly.

"Fuck you." I spat, still shouting. "And get the _fuck_ out of here. I don't ever want to see you again!"

I watched in anger as she left, head bowed, hot tears pouring from her eyes and once the door was closed, I fell to my knees, sucked in a sharp breath, and let out the loudest and longest scream I ever have in my life. This is why I don't let people in.

I _always_ get fucked over.


	4. I'm not enough for me, I'm not enough

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay-this weekend has been crazy, with work, and family reunion's, I'm off tomorrow so I should have more time to update. Until then, enjoy this! And keep reviewing, they make me smile. **

_**Starlight63: I'm glad you're enjoying this, I always love reviewer's input.**_

_**ShaNini86: You got my hints about the fire! I was hoping someone would. :) The whole assaulting a nurse actually happened when a friend of mine started a fire at her **_**own**_** house and ended up being but into a 'crazy institue.' She told me one of the nurses pissed her off, and she just snapped and punched her. I thought it was funny, until I heard she was getting assault charges pressed on her-which now that you think of it, is still kind of funny. I felt bad for the nurse though, my friend did this when she was off her meds. Ha. Anyway, keep reviewing, they always entertain me. :)**_

_**DegrassiRoxzMiSoxz88: Well, I have two things to say-thank you for reading this and reviewing, and also- I love your pen name. Ha. Degrassi is pretty amazing in and of itself. At least I know there's someone else out there who loves that show as much as I do!**_

**Four.**

**

* * *

  
**

It's been an entire week of tears, hatred, and nearly driving myself mad. I kept wanting to crawl in a hole and hide away from the world, and it's funny because just a few days ago I've wanted to be one of them again. One of the ones who could experience life like a normal person, instead of running away like I have been. But the thing is, I can't. I'm not normal, not by any means.

I haven't talked to her since that night. I can't, I won't. She keeps calling, trying to stop by, but I ignore it, ignore her. The very thought, the very inclination of her just playing with me like that, trying to get me to open up to her by nearly fucking me, makes me so angry I could spit. An uncontrollable, terrifying hatred rips through my belly and burns my throat as words of spite fall from my mouth.

And every moment I'm apart from her I can feel myself slipping away at the cracks, and dying a little more inside.

----

I wish I could do something. Anything. I hate sitting here on my one-on-one sessions with Chaz on Tuesday mornings. They're dull, and he's just slightly more creepy each time I see him. He asks me about Olivia, the other night, and what happened with her. I stay silent.

When he asks me again, badgering me to tell him, I stand up and threaten to throw a chair at him. He stands up too, slamming his hands on his desk, challenging me to. Come on, he says. Throw the chair at me, you know you want too. What are you afraid of?

I smirk at him, scoff in disgust and shake my head. "Scared? You think _I'm_ scared?" I hiss. He nods, smiling that smug smile of his at me. "I'm _not_ scared, haven't you heard? I assaulted a nurse." I shot back, crossing my arms over my chest in triumph. He raises an eyebrow.

"You seem proud." He adds, voice bordering on nonchalant. I shrug, and look away.

"What if I am?" I retort. He lets his shoulders drop dramatically, and with it- I see the tension ease and I swallow hard.

"Let me ask you something Alex, when you punched the nurse-did that feel good?"

"What?" I ask, dumbfounded at his question, and slightly taken back. He repeats himself.

"Did it feel good? Did punching the nurse give you the kind of power that you used to have as an ADA?" I look at him, unmoving, not speaking. I'm at a loss for words.

"H-How did you know I was-" He cuts me off.

"An ADA? I'm not stupid Alex-you've been broadcast on television for christ sakes and you're one of the most respected assistant district attorney's in all of New York. Now I asked you a question and I expect an answer. When you hit that nurse, did you feel powerful again?"

I let out a breath, and feel my eyes flutter shut as the words slowly tumble from my mouth.

"Yes."

----

I hear a knock at my door later that night. Not wanting to move, I stay put-laying around in my bed, comfortable and silent. The knock becomes more frantic until it's an incessant beating. I groan in annoyance, fling myself to my feet, sway a little, and then go and whip open the door.

Olivia's on the other side, face flushed and wet with tears. I sigh unhappily, ready to turn and shut the door-but her hand on my shoulder stops me. "I've read your file." I freeze and my body tenses up all over again. "Chaz gave it to me.."

I turn slowly on my heel and find myself staring at her in shock. Without warning, my hand is up in the air and she's holding her cheek. Holy fuck, I've slapped her. She looks shocked, almost as much as I do- and I find myself backing away until I hit my bed. My knees buckle and on instinct, my head starts to shake furiously from side to side. She whimpers, not from pain, but from sadness.

I bite down hard on my lip and muster out something that resembles 'you have to go,' but I make no effort to kick her out or move. "You weren't supposed to read that. He was-wasn't supposed to let you read that." I whisper, voice raspy as my eyes drip with tears.

"We need to talk-why did-didn't you tell me about any of this?" She asks. I can feel that tightening in my chest again, it's getting worse and worse. I stand up, knowing what I have to do, yelling at her to get out. When she doesn't, I push past her, nearly stumbling into my bathroom and locking the door behind me. I listen as she beats against the door, pleading for me to open up, yelling, yelling for someone, anyone. I don't listen, I ignore her and I eat and cut, eat and cut, and then- I throw it all up and I cut my body some more.

I had a small mirror in the bottom of my bag, stashed with bags of food. It was one of the suitcases where the bottom comes up and you can shove things in it, then close it, and put clothes on top to make sure it's hidden. No one would ever know. When I pulled out the mirror a few nights ago, desperate for something-anything to get rid of this pain in my chest, this ripping feeling, I broke the mirror and grabbed one of the shards of glass.

When I do it this time, when I throw up, nothing happens. The pains still there, getting worse. I spit out blood into the toilet. Time seems to slip away as I find myself choking, gasping for air, for anything. I call out for Olivia on the other side of the door but my vision is hazy and I stumble to the ground again. I'm unable to let her in, unable to move. My body is laying on the cold tiles in the bathroom of a crazy hospital, and my body feels like glue.

I choke some more, I can feel the blood in the back of my throat. I roll my body onto my side and watch as it forms a puddle on the floor, falling from my mouth. I hear the door being kicked open and I can vaguely see Olivia at my side, pleading for me to stay with her. I feel her hand on mine, my head in her lap and before I know what's happening, I'm in a world of complete darkness again.

Well, it looks like I'm not getting out of here anytime soon.


	5. Back to where I started

**Author's Note: Wow, lots of shout-outs this week! Sorry it's been so long, I've been stuck in a time loop of school, more school, work, and unfortunately little time for this. But I'm **_**making**_** time, I'm **_**determined**_** to finish this like I did with Waste Away. But before I continue on-let me just wish everyone a happy and ****safe**** holiday weekend-labor day or whatever's coming up. Why do I want to say memorial day? Wtf is that? Lmfao. Ugh, I don't know. My brain's all over the place right now. Anyway-enjoy.**

**Edit:// Sorry it took forever for this to upload, fanfiction was being retarded. But it's up now!  
**

_**DegrassiRoxzMiSoxz88: I'm glad you like this! Keep reviewing. :)**_

_**Your forbidden love: Nice pen name! Sounds a lot like the story of my life! Ha. I'm glad you like the story as well, more Olivia/Alex interaction coming your way soon so keep looking out!**_

_**Vanamo: I'm so glad you enjoy this! And that you think it's powerful on top of that, brightens my day a little more. And don't worry-I won't let Alex die. I love her too much. :)**_

_**Little Butterfly Bee: I'm glad you like this! New readers are always fun. :) But I don't exactly get what you mean when you say you read my profile in the second review you left. What's that mean? Lmfao. Thanks anyway! :)  
**_

_**ShaNini86: Shannon, Shannon, Shannon, what will I **__**ever**__** do with you? Ha. Just kidding. It's fine that it took so long for you to review, I've been just as busy as you have-so I understand where you're coming from. Yes, Alex has **__**finally**__**, **__**truly**__** hit rock bottom-and that tension relief you're talking about should start soon. But It may not, I honestly couldn't tell you. My mind says one thing but my hands type another. I **__**hate**__** that. "/ And you know what-until you actually **__**said**__** something, I hadn't realized I even **__**used**__** a metaphor, ha. I'm sure my english professor will just **__**love**__** that. Hell, she'd probably drive off a cliff in happiness! Now, I know the whole 'letting another person read your files,' is most likely illegal-but seeing as Olivia's a detective, I figured-why not ''break'' the law for the story and just **__**say**__** that she can. Hahahaha. Thanks though none-the-less for reviewing. Keep it up! I hope you enjoy this next chapter. By the way-are you ever gonna reply to those emails I sent? ;) Just kidding. Haha. Take your time on that, as well.**_

**Five.**

Olivia was waiting when I woke up, her brown eyes pouring sadness into my blue, timid ones. I look away moments later, because I can no longer bare the pain, the hurt she throws my way. I bite down hard on my lip, cringing slightly when I taste dry blood. My throat is raw and aching miserably. I try to reach up and touch my scarred face, but find my wrists are strapped to the bed. I sigh angrily.

This fucking _blows_.

----

I guess I fell asleep, because when I wake up again-Olivia's gone and darkness has fallen in, casting shadows across the room from the city lights. I turn to my left, where the empty chair is and find Donnelley leaning casually in the doorway, her lips in a thin, straight line. I swallow hard, knowing that whatever she's about to say will not be good.

"Alex." She says plainly. I nod my head in her direction, giving a small, weak smile. She sighs, sadly.

"This isn't good, you know." I lick my chapped, blood-stained lips and croak out an 'I know.'"You need help." She adds.

I sniffle, feeling tears well at the corners of my eyes. I croak out another 'I know.' She sighs again, in the same sad tone.

"Olivia showed me your file." She spoke softly. I cursed under my breath as a tear slips down my cheek. "Does anyone know?" She asks, pushing her body off the door frame and taking the seat that Olivia occupied earlier. I sniffle again, and shake my head.

Words have failed me now. She spits out a small 'Christ Alex,' and then shuts up again. I bite down again on my lip, to stop it from quivering and turn my head away from her, to the right-so that I was now facing out into the city.

"Would you like to explain it to me? From your perspective?" I suck in a sharp breath, and nod slowly.

Well, here goes everything.

----

"It started when I was five." I choked out. Donnelley leaned in closer, because my voice was nearly gone, and I knew she was straining to hear me. I tried as best I could to speak louder, but she put up a hand, silently signaling me not too. I nod and keep going, through a voice full of tears that have not fallen yet. "M-My parents, I guess you could say-weren't the best. They uh, they drank a lot and did some things I'm _sure_ in their grave, are paying for." I pause again, sucking in another shaky breath.

She looks at me, and right as I'm about to speak again, her phone goes off. She puts up a finger and I nod, waiting until her conversation has ended. When it has, she looks at me remorsefully and tells me to continue. I sniffle. The nurse comes in before I speak, telling me she's untying the restraints for awhile. I thank her weakly and she smiles sympathetically.

I turn my attention back to Donnelley and continue. I tell her my life story, from the time I was five, to the hospitalizations at 16, to the rape, the anger, the hatred, the deaths I've had to deal with, and then now-the suffocating panic I feel every fucking time I hear someone call my name. She asks why, why all of this is coming back and I tell her the only thing I can.

That I'm terrified of living-but I'm _more_ terrified of dying.

----

I fell asleep around 4am and found myself awake again, two hours later so the nurse could check my blood pressure and temperature. Donnelley's sleeping in the chair. I barely notice in my still, half-asleep state, but when I do, I smile. I look up at the nurse who smiles back, and asks if it's my mother.

I shake my head, and right before she jots something down on her clipboard, I say it's my boss. She nods, understandingly and asks if we're close. I tell her we didn't use to be, but last night changed it. The nurse replies happily, that she's glad I have someone-anyone. I smile back again, a _real_ smile in a long while and reply, telling her I have a few people, I was just too blind to see.

Before she leaves, she tells me that _that_ can happen sometimes.

----

Olivia shows up again, and I'm literally on edge, knowing that in just a few short minutes I'll be telling her what I told Donnelley. The nurse does the same routine as always, and when she leaves, I weakly instruct Olivia to sit. She does. I open my mouth, and just when I'm _sure_ I'm going to tell her, the words get stuck. My mind freezes and blanks and I'm staring at her, mouth still hanging open and nothing coming out. She looks at me, shakes her head understandingly and puts up a hand.

"Don't." She whispers between tears. "It's fine-I get it. Take your time." I nod and then speak, voice soft, barely audible.

"Ask Donnelley. I don't think I can explain it again." She sucks in a breath and nods, slowly.

"Ask her what though?" She retorts. I shrug.

"Whatever you don't _already_ know." I hiss, my voice getting back it's edge. I don't know why I'm suddenly like this, why I'm suddenly so angry, but I am. I bite back harsh words and watch as she stands up again, puts on her jacket and silently leaves.

So this is what it's become. This is what _I've_ become. Silent, gone, empty, broken.

----

I'm back at the loony bin again. The first thing I do when I see Chaz, is slap him. I go to do it again, but he's fast and grabs my arm. I hiss lowly at him, eyes narrowed. "How _dare_ you give my file to her!" I shout, voice radiating off the walls. It's the loudest It's been since my stay in the hospital. He stares at me blankly, unmoved, and I continue. Still shouting. Still _pissed_. "Do you _know_ of the damage you've caused me? To my career? To m-my-to my-" I stop, unsure of what to call Olivia. She's not my girlfriend, I'd like her to be, but she's not. I feel my lip quiver as tears well up in my eyes.

I bite down hard on said lip, and tuck a strand of stringy blond hair behind my ear. He looks at me, arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Are you done?" He asks dully. I sniffle and blink back more tears that threaten to fall. I let out a breath and nod slowly.

"I did it because I care." He speaks, unexpectedly. I whip my head up to look at him, a puzzled expression on my face. "I care about you Alex, I care about your health, and I _know_ that you wanted Olivia to see that file-" I cut him off immediately, my harsh tone back.

"You _know_?" I spit, words like venom. "What are you? A fucking mind reader now? And don't give me this bull shit about you caring! If I _wanted_ her to know, don't you think I would've told her?" I shouted. He looks at me, and then speaks again-his tone more challenging now.

"No. I don't. In fact, I _knew_ you wouldn't-which is also why I let her read it. That, and she said she'd have my ass and my job if I didn't give them to her." He snapped, a smug smile on his face. I slapped him again, unexpectedly to both him, and my stinging hand. He sighs unhappily and points past me. I know he's silently telling me to leave, go to my room and cool down but I'm beyond pissed. Too pissed to move.

I want to slap him again. In fact, I do. I slap him again, and just as I'm going to a third time-he grips hold of my arm again and holds tightly. I wince. "Touch _me_ again, and I'll make _sure_ Detective Benson arrests you for assault. Understand?" He snaps, lowly. I swallow hard, rip my hand from his grasp and stomp away.

Fucking prick.


	6. Here I am, I'm so young

**Author's Note: **I'm aware, I fail miserably at updating. But in my defense, I got into a car crash, and I honestly have felt like shit-that, and I've been incredibly busy. Reviews would be beautiful. hank you all for being so understanding though. :D

_**Vanamo: Ha. You flatter me, seriously. You're also dead on about the love/hate of the characters. I feel the same, even as I write them-**__**especially**__** as I write them. I'm glad you like Chaz, and his character should build more in later chapters. Haha. I love the end bit about Haung though, because it's so true it's actually **__**sad**__**. Keep reviewing! I look forward to them every time I post a new chapter! :)**_

_**Starlight63: Hahah. I take it you aren't a fan of Chaz, eh? Don't worry, I know the feeling. I hated him at first, when I first wrote him in-but he's slowly growing on me.**_

_**ShaNini86: So you still like Chaz too, eh? Well, that's always good. Glad to know, not **__**everyone**__** hates him. I was a bit nervous about writing him in because I thought he was a bit **__**too**__** stiff in the beginning, but I kinda like how he's developing now. I'm also happy to know you liked the line in my story where a part of the chapter breaks. Oh, and I got your emails and I have returned them-well, it. Ha. Keep reviewing please. :D**_

_**Your forbidden love: Ha. Yes-definite plus for Alex smiling. I don't really know why I wrote that in, I just felt like she needed to smile. Hahah. **_

**Six.**

Olivia and I tend to teeter back and forth now. I talk, she gets angry. She talks, I get angry. All in all, it never ends well. I glance down at my nails, which I've bitten to the bits, and sigh in boredom. The only bad thing about being locked in the loony bin-wait, what am I saying? It's _all_ bad.

I glance up when I hear a knock on my door. Olivia again. I look at her for a moment, and then away. She rocks back and forth on her heels, nervously as she stays put in my doorway. I suck in a breath, waiting for her to speak. A moment later, she does.

"Can we talk?"

I shrug. She takes another step in the room and closes the door behind her.

"About your file." She's cautious, not wanting me to break again like I did the other night.

"I told you to talk to Donnelley." I said, dryly. I peer at her from the corner of my eye, watching as she licks her lips sensually. The little things she does, drives me crazy. I bite down hard on my lip, refusing to turn my head completely to look at her.

"I did. But I want to hear it from _you_." I shake my head.

"I'm not telling you what you already know. It's pointless."

"No it's not." She challenges, hands on hips. I scoff, rolling my eyes. I stand up and whip my body around.

"Yes it is!" I shout. "There's no fucking point in me sitting here, telling you my damn sob story if you already know it all!"

She exhales slowly, eyes widened slightly from my outburst. I sniffle, not even realizing I've started crying again. She steps closer to me again, and again, until she's almost on top of me. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she leans in and kisses me.

I respond for a moment, but when I finally come to my senses I push her away forcefully, hurt.

"I don't want or _need_ your pity-" She cuts me off.

"It's not pity." She snaps, quickly. "I want to be with you."

"What?" I retort back. "So you can tell the squad you got into my pants?"

"That's not it!" She shouts, her voice matching my own-moments ago. "Why can't you just understand and accept the fact that I fucking _love_ you?" I stare at her, slightly in shock as she stands there-tears rushing like a faucet from her eyes, breathing heavily and clenching her fists. I've _never_ seen Olivia Benson cry like this. Ever.

And somehow, in my hazy state I let out a breath and elicit a small bit of truth.

"Because you _shouldn't_."

----

We talked for another hour, and in the midst of it all, we worked something out. How, I'm unsure-but now we've come to the conclusion it's terribly stupid to hide our feelings from one another. I love her, and it's obvious from her display this afternoon that she feels the same.

She lays beside me on my bed, both of us on our sides-facing one another. Her arms are locked tightly around my waist and she's kissing me softly on my lips. And let me tell you, if there's two things this woman can do well it's her job, and kiss.

I feel her hands slide from their place around my waist, to grip my shirt at the hems. I moan softly, wanting so badly for her to pull it off me. And just when I think she's about too, I'm interrupted by her phone. Groaning in annoyance, I watch as she hits the ignore button, smirks and then finally, proceeds to shed me of my top. Her hands feel cool against my burning flesh, and I'm stuck-debating in my head on how far I want this to go.

She moves her lips down to my neck, alternating between sucking and biting it. I hiss lowly and let my eyes close. She smirks and digs her teeth deeper-mumbling something about loving the sounds I make. I suck in a breath, my shaking hands gripping fistfuls of her hair. Her phone goes off again. I curse loudly, and she laughs, finally breaking away to take the call.

She sighs in annoyance when she hangs up and mutters an apology about needing to head back because there's been a break in one of her cases. I nod, unhappily and let her kiss me once more-watching as she leaves.

I wait to hear the door shut before I fall back onto my pillow and close my eyes again, the freshly fallen rain, lulling me into a peaceful sleep. The first I've had in awhile, and I can't help but think this is the beginning of something wonderful.


	7. We just wanna be whole

**Author's Note: I really need to get to sleep because I have to wake up early tomorrow for work, so I have **_**no**_** time what so ever to write the shout outs for this post, but I will write them for both the last chapter and this-probably the next time I post which may or may not be tomorrow after work.**

**Seven.**

Chaz tells me to write more. I tell him to fuck off. He jots some bull shit on my chart about needing to _control_ my anger. I roll my eyes. It goes like this for another hour until he sends me back to my room. Olivia is there, waiting for me when I get back. She looks at me, a distant look in her eyes and I frown instantly.

Something isn't right.

I walk towards her, she pulls back and whispers a soft 'no.' I suck in a breath and watch as she walks to the window, staring out at the city ahead-like I so often do. I bite down hard on my lip and sit with one leg tucked underneath me on the bed, the other dangling off. I wait for her to speak, because that's all I can do.

"I have some bad news." She says quietly. It's barely above a whisper but I hear it.

"W-What is it?" I ask, voice shaking as a pit of fear bubbles in my stomach. I swallow hard.

"It's about your sister."

----

She was dead. Olivia and Elliot found her in the bushes in City Park. Her body was badly beaten, possibly raped, and she was dead. They hadn't noticed it was her until they checked her ID. When they saw the name, Olivia said she'd come over and tell me.

I didn't really know what to think at first, but now-three hours later with her laying naked and sleeping beside me, I'm crying silently. My sister, my _baby sister_ is dead. I can't fathom it, yet at the same time I can. It makes me sick to my stomach just imagining it.

I bite down on my lip to hold back a sob. I clutch the sheets tightly and feel a hand on my shoulder, making me jump. I look over, my wet, blue eyes meeting Olivia's large, brown ones. I woke her up. Now I feel worse.

She smiles weakly at me, places a small kiss atop my nose and pulls me into her. I rest my head onto her shoulder and within seconds, find myself sobbing. She holds me tighter, whispering sweet nothing's into my ear.

I bite my lip harder as I sob loudly. I'm disgusted. Angry. Hurt.

I want to scream. I do, and startle her. She holds me tighter. I scream again and again until they turn back into sobs.

And I don't know when I realized it but I did-I have _no_ idea what to do anymore.

----

They let me out for the funeral. The SVU and it's entirety was there, as well as Donnelley and Casey, and a few others from the office. I sat in the front, looking at nothing but the casket. I didn't speak, I didn't move, I barely _breathed_ as they discussed my sister's life.

And when she was going into the ground I only thought of one thing-how I wanted her back.

----

I wasn't always the big sister my sister thought of me as. I wasn't always her friend. I didn't always _like_ her, but I knew I always loved her. When she moved away to Colarado for school, I kept in touch-but then she married some jackass and refused to speak to me again.

I hadn't seen or spoken to her since she married said Jackass, four years ago. And now I won't get the chance. I look over at him. He's got this pathetic expression on his face that I have an urge to slap off. He didn't know her like I did, he didn't watch her go through years of abuse, like I. He didn't _love_ her like I did.

She was my baby sister! I was supposed to protect her and I couldn't even do that.

He looked over at me as I was staring at him, an angry expression on my face and I swear I saw him smirk-and now, I know why she never contacted me again. _He_ was the reason. _He_ was the cycle of abuse she re-entered and _he _is most likely the reason why she's now in a fucking casket, 6 feet on the ground.

I want to _kill_ him.


	8. Build me a rice house on cranberry lake

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Been sick and busy.**

_**Starlight63: Thanks for reviewing. I really appreciate it. :)**_

_**Little-Butterfly-Bee: Your review wasn't childish at all! Haha. It's fine. **_

_**Vanamo: Aw, I'm sorry you've been sick dear-but your review is certainly not "lack-luster." :) I enjoy it none-the-less. But what do you mean about the note? I'm a little confused. Ha. Is this about the author's note? Or did i leave you a note and forget about it? Hah. I seem to be doing that a lot these days!**_

_**ShaNini86: Don't worry, I **_**do**_** plan on adding in the sister's back story. I would, and could never forget about something like that. It's just too important. ;) Anyway, I enjoyed your review and appreciate it a lot. :) Oh! And I replied to your email. hahahah.**_

**Eight.**

I'm walking with Olivia in the park after the burial. Everyone else has sent their condolences and moved on. Not that I cared much, I was never one for attention outside of work. I pull my jacket tighter around my body as I watch the leaves twirl around on the ground. Fall's approaching rather slowly this year, but somehow-a bitter cold has swept through the city. I look over at Olivia who's eying me suspiciously. I barely noticed we've stopped walking.

"What?" I ask quietly, tucking a strand of blond hair behind my ear. She shrugs and smiles lightly.

"Tell me about your sister."

----

Her name was Amy, Amy Elizabeth Cabot-and she was the one person in the world I could trust with my heart and soul and know I wouldn't be let down. She knew all of my secrets because really, she experienced the same. She knew my hiding places, when to leave me alone and when it was safe to be around me. She protected me, and I protected her-but apparently not enough.

Amy was my polar opposite. While I was quiet and reserved, she was wild and outgoing-which often got her into trouble by not just her teachers, but our parents as well. And that was the _worst_ kind of trouble. Neither of us liked being in trouble by them, so we tried our best to stay _out_ of trouble. Which, regardless of whether we did anything or not, were always punished somehow.

She was talented and optimistic, I was not. The only thing I could see myself doing was writing and memorizing. I did school work while she mastered instruments and song writing. She had a voice that could move mountains and change the world. I was amazed when she'd play me something on her guitar. The things she wrote about were so _real_ because as unfortunate as it was for her, _were_ real.

She told me stories about getting out of town, leaving this place for something better, something only _she_ could create. I'd smile and nod along because that's all I could do. I was in more ways then one, hurt. Not by her, but by knowing she'd leave me eventually. I pretended not to care though, telling her how proud I was of her-and she reciprocated.

I remember when she'd come to me as a little girl, crying when mom and dad fought late into the night and woke her up. Or when one of them just didn't come home, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I took care of her as more her mother then her sister since I was 11. I would make sure she ate, got her homework done and got to bed at a reasonable time. I would coddle with her until she fell asleep. I'd get in the way so it was _me_ getting the beatings, not her.

Then it disappeared, like she'd told me she would do. She started dating Jake the Jackass when she was 18, moved in with him the following year, and then got married a year after that and both moved out to Colorado. We kept in touch for a year or so, but after that nothing. I used to say I'd call her, tell myself that I'll send an email when I got home from work that night, but one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was talking to no one.

I never liked Jake, not really at least. I told her I did when she came home after prom, gloating to me about how he danced with her all night and then the sat talking, under the stars like something out of a cheesy movie. I said 'great' and nodded occasionally when needed, but other then that-I had a sinking feeling in my chest that he was _not_ a good guy.

And as much as I wanted to be wrong, I knew that after today, I wasn't. I wasn't wrong. I was entirely right and had every reason for my distaste in him. As I finished talking, I look over at Olivia. I've lost the space of time where we moved from standing in the middle of the park, to sitting on a bench. I was crying again, soft tears trickling down my hot pink cheeks. My hair whipped furiously in the pounding wind and I ached all over. She kissed me lightly, took me back to the 'loony bin,' and then left.

I stared out my window awhile after she'd disappeared too. After Olivia left, I mean. I watched as the red, golden leaves fell from the trees, tapping an occasional dance at my window before falling mercilessly to the ground. And soon after, my eyes closed and lulled me into a deep, terrifying sleep.

----

I woke up hours later, sweating and sobbing, screaming at the top of my lungs for Amy to come back. I don't know what the dream was about really, just the fear that surrounded it. A nurse was at my side, and I barely registered her inject something into me before my head was back on the pillow.

----

The demons in my head grew stronger with the passing days. I sat in a chair in Chaz's office, not moving, not talking. I was back to square one. I watch as he jots more things down on his clip board, then hands me my journal. I stare at it, then back at him, a rather blank expression plastered on my face.

"Write." He says.

It's the only thing he's said since I got here. And with a small, unhappy sigh, I do.

----

_November 22. 2009- Build me a rice house on cranberry lake._

"Saying nothing... sometimes says the most."-Emily Dickinson.

_How can you expect me to talk after a night like this? Especially when I have nothing to say. Especially when I don't know _what_ to say. My mouth and lungs are dry, and the words sit like moldy toothpaste on my tongue. They won't fall forward. I wish I had an on and off button. That way, I wouldn't have a choice. I'd have to talk. It may come out as drabble, but at least I'd be talking-and then when you would be finished, when or _if_, you'd get what you wanted to hear, you could turn me off._

_If only I could do that with the rest of the world..._

_I just have one question, and please try to answer it in it's utmost entirety. What am I going to do without her? Can you tell me this? Please? Please? I need to know because I'm nearly driving myself mad! I want to dig a hole in my skull and tip it to the side so all of the answers I need can just fall out. _


	9. You have so much love to give

**Author's Note: So yes, I am aware it's been awhile. I apologize. I've been stuck between school, work, and well no, that's about it. But here's an update-shout out's should be back up within the next update or so, I don't have time to do them right now. This jumps around a lot, but the next chapter should explain it all. This next chapter, is also the last- so thank you. Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing. Your love for this story is what keeps me going. :D**

**Nine.**

It's been a month and three days. I haven't bothered to contact Amy's ex husband because really, what's the point? No one in their right mind is going to believe someone in a fucking loony bin. I've written more though, which Chaz likes, but made almost zero progress when it comes to the actual eating part.

Olivia's the only thing keeping me sane though. She's the air I breathe, my entire world. She's _my_ Olivia. I'm staring out the window when she walks into my room, hands buried deep in the pockets of her long coat. I smile, seeing her from the reflection in the window.

Turning to face her, I frown when I see she's crying. Hesitant, I walk towards her, take her in my arms and listen as she sobs apologies into my ear. My brow knits in confusion. Why's she apologizing?

"Shh." I whisper. It's weird, being the one to have to calm her down. I've never seen her this upset, but when she pulls back and looks at me, smiling sadly as she brushes a soft hand over my cheek, I know that deep in the pit of my stomach something is _very_ wrong. I bite down hard on my lip, watching as she backs away from me, shaking her head. I call out to her, wanting her to stop, but she turns, sobbing again, and walks away from me.

I'm left in the dark. Alone.

----

One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. One month. Two months. I'm about two months and a week in when Elliot shows up at my door. I haven't talked to Olivia in two months and 7 days. I have no idea what the hell is going on and I want to crawl in a hole.

A somber look appears on Elliot's face and I swallow hard as he steps in my room. I bite down on my lip as I stare up at him with empty, sad eyes. I don't say anything. I have nothing to say. I don't know _what_ to say.

"She's in a bad place right now Al," He says lightly, with a hint of sorrow in his voice. "You have to understand it. Understand where she's coming from." I suck in a breath as his words run through my ears. I open my mouth, wait a moment, then close it again.

I still have nothing to say. And she's still breaking my heart.

----

Bad place? She's in a bad place? What in God's name does that even _mean_? _She's_ in a bad place? Hello! Try living in the fucking nut house for nearly three damn months and pretty much getting _nowhere. _Then you can say you're in a bad place.

I blink back tears furiously as he says nothing more, watching as he leaves like she did. When he's gone, I close my door, fall to my knees and crumble completely. Because maybe, just maybe it's one step towards getting out of here.

----

For the first time since I've been here, I verbally let out how I felt to Chaz. He smiled, told me some bullshit and then wrote down his annual notes on the clipboard. But really, it didn't matter how much progress I made if I didn't have anyone to share it with.

----

Another month, another day and I'm released. She's at my apartment door before I even get there. I smile weakly, she throws it back and my bags fall to the ground without warning as she rushes toward me, tears pouring from her eyes. I swear, it's like a bad romance movie.

Her lips. My hands in her hair. Her body, god her everything-it's back. It's back. And suddenly, I don't care about anything anymore-not being left in the dark when she left, or not her leaving at all.

Because she's back. She's back and she's _all_ mine.

----

We sit on my couch, the apartment the same as I remember it being. She looks down at her knees which are drawn to her chest, when she talks. Her voice is quiet, small, scared. I listen though. I listen like she listened to me, because while I may not be completely healed, I'm getting there. And listening, listening helps.

She tells me about Harris, about the trial, and about how she thought she was losing her mind. She tells me it all with hot tears pouring down her face and her body shaking. And I say nothing and continue to listen because really, that's all I _can_ do.

----

Our bed, that night, feels so fucking good. Better then It's been in awhile. I hold her close to my body, watching her sleep with the light from the moon through my window. I smile, kiss her forehead, and with one last glance, let my eyes drift shut.

Such a peaceful world now. Such a peaceful world with her...


	10. Because I am beautifully undone

**Author's Note: I apologize for the delay. School and work have literally been eating up my time. And Glee. I'm now terribly obsessed with Glee, so much it should and most likely **_**will**_** end up being Illegal soon. Ha. Sike! Anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone of you for reading and reviewing so fucking faithfully. I could not ask for better people to read this! :D Unfortunately so, this is the last chapter due to the fact I forgot where I was taking this and have no time to re-route the story. Hahahah. But thank you, thank you, thank you and be sure to read/review my other stories.**

_**Vanamo: The diary idea came to me from my English teacher. When I took her composition class this year, the first thing I heard was 'the only way to express yourself, the **_**greatest**_** way to express yourself is through writing. And that is what you're to do.' So I'm like hmm, why not try to tie that in with young Alex here? :) Glad you like it though. And thank you for reading/reviewing this and Waste away. I cannot thank you enough. You've been so faithful. I hope to hear from you in the future! :D**_

_**ShaNini86: Despite whether your reviews are short or long, they're still incredibly appreciated. I could write a book on how incredibly reliable and faithful you are, but I think I'll pass-my boss might kick my ass if I miss another day of work-ha! But THANK YOU! The conversations we've been having have been so hilarious/motivating. You're the muse to this story and I cannot appreciate that enough.**_

_**DegrassiRoxzMiSoxz88: Thank you for reading this, and Waste away-if you did read that-I really do appreciate it. :)**_

_**Little-butterfly-bee: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. And that's merely all I can say. :D**_

**Ten.**

Up until now, I never knew what the term 'recovery' meant. Not really, at least. I knew it in laments terms, but I didn't know what it meant to _me_. Did it just mean getting better and getting out? Did it mean getting my job back? Did it mean finding myself along the way?

Up until now, I had no idea.

Up until now, I was alone. Then Olivia came into the picture...

----

I listen to my heels click against the tiled floor as I head with Olivia back into the precinct. She says she has a surprise, and my heart is thumping so fucking loud it's literally singing in my ears. I'm terrified, yet excited. I'm so nervous I think I might fall over and pass out but Olivia's gripping my hand and whispering soothing words into my ear as we approach the doors.

She waits for me to collect myself and when I throw a nod her way, she opens the doors open and everyone I'd ever could've thought of and more, are there-a loud 'surprise/welcome back' in my direction.

A smile warms my face and suddenly I've come to the realization that I've never felt more at ease, more at home then I do in this exact moment.

----

When the party is over and everyone's dissipated for the night, I sit with Olivia at her desk, staring out into the city and rehashing old memories, old wounds. I want her to know everything, I don't want to lie or hide anymore.

And by the time daylight comes around, there is no more lying.

----

There are a lot of things in my life I wish I had done differently. For starters, not relapsing. But in some way, in some weird, bizarre way which I'm sure no one will understand, I find that maybe it was good I did.

Maybe it was good this happened one last time, because maybe I needed to get everything out of my system. For good, I mean. Maybe I needed to fall down hard so I could learn to get up on my own. So I could learn that not everything in this world will end happily, but when it does to cherish it.

Maybe I needed to fall down hard so I could learn how to love again.

How to _feel_ again.

----

Olivia's sheets are a satin blue and they feel sweet and cool around my sweating, flaming body. She's kissing me in ways I've never imagined, loving me in more ways then one, teaching me just _how_ to be whole again.

----

I lean against the door frame a week later, hovering in between the precinct and Cragen's office. Nothing's said, just a simple smile and he understands. He understands that just because I can't physically say it, emotionally-I'm grateful.

And that's good enough for him _and_ me.

----

Casey and Donnelley are talking amongst themselves when I return to the building. They both _stop_ talking however, when they notice me. I nod in their direction, a small, knowing nod, and they both smile.

And the ironic thing in it all is the fact that Liz Donnelley _never_ smiles.

Until today that is.

----

Elliot and the rest of the gang slur over my progress and how proud they are of me at the bar that night. Olivia's holding me tightly around my waist, claiming me as hers and nothing more. I chuckle, shake my head and bury it into her neck-the night finally taking it's toll on me.

She whispers something into my ear about heading home, which I'm sure the boys took as it being something dirty and start chuckling, and I whisper back a reply about only leaving if she's ready too.

She says she is. We say goodbye and head into the cool city air.

I glance up at the sky when I feel something cold hit my nose.

I smile when I notice what it is.

It's snowing.

----

I cannot promise that in the future things won't get messy again. I cannot promise that I won't return to my downfall like I had once before. I cannot promise that I won't want to run away, or that Olivia and I will stay forever and live in a world of rainbows and sunshine.

But for now, there is one thing I can promise.

For now, I am okay. I am Alexandra Cabot, and that is all I can be. All I _want_ to be.


End file.
